Haunted
by jesslovescastle
Summary: Beckett isn't the only one haunted by her shooting...


**Author's Note: I'm a huge fan of Beckett & Esposito's very close friendship. I've also rather enjoyed the thought of them as a romantic pair. I'm not sure which direction this story is headed yet and if I intend to seek out their romance. Stay tuned to find out! This takes place right after Beckett was shot at the end of season 3 and the follow up in the beginning of the season 4 premiere. There has been no time jump yet. Castle has still said he loves her and she denies remembering anything from the shooting.**

"_Roy Montgomery taught me what it meant to be a cop. He taught me that we are bound by our choices. But we are more than our mistakes. Captain Montgomery once said to me for us there are no victory; there are only battles. And in the end the best you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand. And if you're very lucky, you find someone willing to stand with you."_

_He had listened to his partner say, on behalf of their belated captain. He was really touched by her speech dedicated to Captain Montgomery. Still, deep inside, Esposito didn't believe that he deserved Beckett's dedication and devotion, after the way he had betrayed her. They were supposed to lay it to rest though. Everyone was supposed to believe that Roy Montgomery died a hero, whether that was the image he really deserved or not._

_Shots were fired. Javier pushed Lanie to the ground, covering her, as he looked around, to see who had been hit, if anyone. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, like time was stuck between in motion and frozen. His eyes watched as his partner, Beckett, fell to the ground in Rick Castle's arms._

He shot up in bed, covered in sweat. Panting, he glanced over at the clock on the table next to the bed. 4:07, it read. He glanced around in the dark. It was just a dream. A nightmare. The same reoccurring nightmare he had been having about his partner, since she was shot a few days ago in the cemetery. Even though she had lived through it, it still haunted him. Whoever did this was still out there. What if he struck again?

Laying back in bed, he tried to push the thoughts from his head. He hadn't visited Beckett in the hospital, since she had woken up after surgery. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do so. The thought of seeing her laying there, in that hospital bed, wounded just scared him to death. She had almost died. She went into cardiac arrest during surgery. They had almost lost her. _He_ had almost lost her. That's the reason he guessed he hadn't visited her yet. Because he didn't want to face that he almost lost his partner, his friend. Yet, everyone else had been there, by her side. Castle, Ryan, and even Lanie. He had heard from each of them that Beckett had been asking about him. Each time, they covered for him, but he knew they couldn't lie forever. Besides, sooner or later, Beckett would be back at work and he wouldn't live it down. What would he even tell her?

He and Ryan were trying so hard to find a lead to whoever had shot her. He thought once whoever was responsible was behind bars, maybe he could put this to rest. Maybe then, he could face Beckett in that hospital bed. There was no evidence, though. Whoever had fired that shot was clean and got away so quickly, before anyone could see. He knew Beckett would never give up on the shooter. It was all connected to her mother's murder. He feared that she would die, trying to solve this thing.

Rolling over in bed, the detective tried to force himself back to sleep. He just couldn't. Once he was up, he was up. Those late night/early morning calls had made him that way. When you were a cop, you didn't sleep much. He finally forced himself out of the bed. He didn't know what he was going to do at this hour. He could exercise. He could go down to the 12th and go over the shooting one more time. He could go to the hospital and check on Beckett. The thought of visiting her while she was sleeping seemed easier than facing her when she was awake. She couldn't ask questions, then. He wouldn't have to tell her the truth about why he hadn't visited. He wouldn't have to admit his feelings.

Half an hour later, he was showered, dressed, and downtown at the hospital. He had walked down the hallway where her room was multiple times, passing her room, stopping to peer in at her, but never going in. Fifteen minutes had passed and he had circled her room tons of times, stopped in the hospital gift shop, just as it opened, to get her some flowers, and was now standing outside of her door. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He just couldn't get himself to go into her room. He looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was just after six. He knew if he didn't go in there soon, she would wake up and see him standing out in the hallway, like the idiot he felt like. Taking a deep breath, he quietly opened up the door and stepped into the dark hospital room.

He shut the door back, just the way he had found it on the other side, as quietly as he could. Turning around, he saw she was still asleep and he breathed easily for a moment. Nearly tip-toeing, he carried the flowers over towards her growing collection of bouquets. He set the wild flowers among the rest, before looking back at her in her bed. He found himself checking the monitors, making sure that everything was how it should be. He wasn't a doctor, but he was sure he could tell the difference from good stats and bad stats. Everything seemed to be fine. Just as he had hoped for.

Looking down at her in the bed, he noticed how pale she looked. He figured it was because she lost a lot of blood when she was shot. A few days had passed though. She should look better than that. Maybe, he was just wishful thinking. He let out a breath. He wanted to talk to her. He didn't want to wake her though. He didn't want to see the question in her eyes. Where had he been? How could he explain such a thing to someone he couldn't even explain to himself? Why hadn't he visited her? Why was he so afraid?

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the sun was starting to rise. He was sure that this would wake her up. He decided to make his leave. Quietly, he walked towards the door. He stopped only once, to look back at her. To make sure she was really okay. He knew in time, she'd heal and be back to normal. He could already hear her barking orders at him in the bullpen. That lone thought made him smile, briefly. He missed that Beckett.

Spinning around, he headed for the door, for good now. As he got to it, he quietly opened it up and prepared to step out into the hallway. That's when he heard it. The one thing he had been trying to avoid, coming here.

"Javier, you're here..."

Her voice called out into the dark room, hoarsely. He cursed himself for not staying home or going to the precinct. He cursed himself even harder, for staying away since she had come out of surgery. Taking a breath to compose himself, he slowly turned around to face her in the rising sunlit room. He gave her a small smile, as he took a step away from the door. The last thing he wanted was for her to know he was running out like a coward.

"I've missed your face around here..."

When she said that, he knew he was in trouble. He didn't really peg her to buy the excuses that all of their friends had given her for him. He also didn't believe she wouldn't notice that he hadn't been by. They had a very special, close relationship. He should have been one of the very first people to see her. He just couldn't.

"I know, girl,"

He replied, as he drew nearer to the bed again. He figured he could pile up excuse after excuse, but it would just be a waste of time. She wanted the truth and she deserved it. She had nearly died and he hadn't been much of the friend he was supposed to be.

"I brought you flowers, but I can see you've already gotten a flower shop full,"

He mentioned with a laugh, as he glanced at all the different bouquets lined up around the room. He wasn't sure if he was making small talk or just avoiding the inevitable. However, hearing her laugh made everything feel a little bit better. She spotted the wild flowers on the floor and gave him a smile.

"I don't have any of those yet. Thank you, they're lovely,"

She told him. She was just happy to see him. She had laid in bed, wondering why he hadn't been by yet. Ryan had told her that he was busy at work. Castle and Lanie both backed up that story. But with the friendship they had, she knew that he wouldn't let work stand in the way of seeing her. She didn't appreciate her friends lying to her for him either.

"Look..."

He started to explain, singing that lingering question in her eyes. He knew if he just came clean, maybe they'd both feel better. After all, he had a feeling that he wasn't the only one haunted by what had happened. She was the one with the gunshot wound. She was the one who nearly died. It was haunting her more than it was him. He just didn't want to rehash all of that for the both of them.

"I'm sorry,"

He said instead. He could tell that it surprised her to hear that, instead of his reasoning. Yet, she wasn't upset by it. She felt better just hearing the apology. They could dig into his reason for not coming and it would just make both of them feel worse. Sorry just seemed to be the right thing for both of them right now. She reached out for his hand and he was more than happy to take hers. He sat down at her bedside, leaning in to place a kiss on the top of her head.

"This is why I missed you,"

She whispered quietly, as his lips still lingered among her hair. He pulled back, glancing into those familiar green eyes. He gave her a small smile, as he sat down at her side again.

"You come in here, say almost nothing, and just remind me why I'm lucky to be alive."

"We're all really lucky that you're alive, too, Beckett. We don't know what we'd do without you."

She listened to him and wondered if he meant 'we' or just himself in particular. They had seen each other through a lot. If there was something more than friends, that wasn't lovers, they were it. Through thick and through thin.

"I don't know what I'd do without you either, Esposito,"

She said, complete with a wink. They both shared a laugh. It was refreshing after everything they had both been through emotionally and her, physically, over the last few days. This was the perfect moment they each needed. Still, he knew it couldn't stay that simple. He wanted to know how she was feeling. She'd want to know if they had found the guy who did this yet. One was answerable. The other wasn't. He didn't want to disappoint her with the fact that there was no leads for either case. Her's or her mother's.

"So, when are you gonna get out of here?"

He asked, monitoring her machines again, even though they didn't have any change since he first came into her room.

"The doctor says I can go home in a few days. But, I have to stay home for a few months."

He could sense the annoyance in her voice. There was nothing that irked her than being confined to her apartment, on bed rest. But then again, he wouldn't be very fond of that either.

"Don't worry. You'll be back on your feet in no time, girl,"

He said, giving her a sure smile. She was Kate Beckett, after all. There was nothing that knocked her down forever. This thing though, it almost did. And he knew that once she was back on her feet, she was going to go running right back into it. That, right now, was his worst fear.


End file.
